Restoring Harmony
by Whiskey Meteor
Summary: Andrew comes to visit Wolfram & Hart. He and Harmony hit it off... sort of. HarmonyAndrew in part one, AndrewXander in parts two and three. Now completed!
1. Restoring Harmony

Title: Restoring Harmony  
  
Author: Whiskey Meteor  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Andrew comes to visit Wolfram & Hart. He and Harmony hit it off... sort of.  
  
Disclaimer/Notes: Takes place in Ats season 5. Sort of a rewrite of the episode in which Andrew makes a cameo over. Harmony's point of view.  
  
_______________________________________________________________  
  
I was sitting at my desk, forehead daintily creased in concentration, when it happened:  
  
"Um, hi. Harmony?"   
  
I jumped in surprise. I'd been so busy filing my nails that I hadn't noticed anyone approach my desk, so the sudden interruption startled me. "Geez," I gasped. "Give a girl some warning, will y-" I looked up at mister-startley-pants and my words stopped in my throat. Cute, dirty-blonde hair and big, blue eyes--He was so familiar... Shorter, blonder hair when I'd known him; and he would have been younger, paler... But it wasn't his look that was pinching my brain. Well, it was, but not the physical, clothesy look--the 'I'm trying as hard as my nerdy little tush can to be someone that I'll never ever in a hundred billion years be' look. I squinted as I fought to put a name to the face.  
  
"I'm Andrew?" he prompted, giving up a little half shrug and raising his eyebrows.  
  
I frowned and cocked my head to the side thoughtfully. "Andrew?" I asked. "Did we, like, go to school together or something, because you are *so* familiar." I raised my eyebrows to match his.  
  
"No," he retorted, suddenly offended for no reason. He crossed his arms over his chest, and my memory connected: I'd seen that gesture at least a dozen times in my last brief meeting with Andrew.  
  
"You were part of that gang of nerds!" I announced gleefully, smiling and pointing a perfectly filed nail at him. "Yeah, you guys wanted my help with some hair-brained scam to kill the slayer," I frowned again. "I clearly remember sending two very capable minions to walk you home."  
  
"You did," Andrew confirmed.  
  
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Well they were supposed to kill you," I said, "not make sure you got back okay."  
  
"Oh." Andrew looked confused. "Well, they tried to kill us," he offered with a shrug, and then glanced down at his feet. "Jonathan was quick, you know for a little guy? And he had this glittery dust stuff in his pocket." Andrew raised his hands and mimed what looked like someone throwing a ball really, really badly. "The dust hit the... your minions, and it totally messed them up--like," his eyes sparkled, "like Han when he first got out of the carbonite, and Leiah was there--and I was *so* surprised when it was Leiah and not Luke."  
  
I shook my head briskly. That was a lot of awkwardness to squeeze into one little nerd. "So, are you like... still," I faltered, picking my words carefully, "evil?"  
  
"Nah-ah," Andrew said firmly. He nodded and gave a modest, sweet little smile. "I'm good now."  
  
"No way!" I bounced on my feet. "I'm good now too! Well, I mean, I'm trying to be good."  
  
"Cool," he nodded knowingly. "Isn't redeeming yourself great?"  
  
"You bet," I agreed half-heartedly, trying to keep up my winning smile. Redeeming yourself sucked--I kept getting wicked human cravings and feeling guilty 'cause I'm pretty sure I could justify eating one, lousy human. I frowned; there was no use pretending. "Oh, who am I kidding. It sucks." Andrew's face fell, and I felt bad for bringing him down. "Sorry," I offered. "It's just hard being good when you're, well, you know, predisposed to evil."   
  
Andrew shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Um, so, anyway." He looked at me carefully. "I'm here to see Angel? Rupert Giles sent me."  
  
I gave a little laugh. "*You're* the special help from England?"   
  
"Yes," Andrew whined. "Rupert said he had the 'utmost confidence in my capabilities'." He nodded, satisfied, and his bangs bounced down onto his forehead. He pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow them back into place. The hair fell back over his brow. Definitely not evil, I thought. But cute. And sweet in an awkward, nerdy sort of way. He lifted a hand and fiddled with the stray hair until it resigned to stay where he put it.  
  
Definitely not straight, I added and flashed a winning smile. "Angel's not in his office," I said and pointed to Angel's door. "But you can wait in there until I get someone to come talk to you if you want."  
  
Andrew nodded primly. "Thank you for your help," he said. He turned towards Angel's office, but paused in mid-step and turned back. "And good luck with the whole not being evil thing," he added. "I know it's hard, but... but I'm sure you can do it."  
  
"Thanks, Andrew," I offered. "But I'm sure if you got to know me better you'd change your mind."  
  
"Everyone has the power to redeem themselves." Andrew cocked his head to the side curiously. "And your nails are filed flawlessly," he said. "No one with perfect nails could be evil." He smiled reverently and left me for Angel's office, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
I frowned thoughtfully. I did have flawless nails; maybe I could overcome the whole evil thing. It was nice of Andrew to... well, to be so nice.  
  
I smiled and tapped my flawless nails on my desk for a moment. Too bad he's gay, I thought: the little dweeb had some serious potential. And he would have made a nice, light sna--damn it!   
  
***  
  
I made some calls and Andrew didn't have to wait long until Wes came to talk to him. I managed to stand by the door and listen for a while... until I got bored and went back to work. Wes talked a lot about this girl who broke out of a loony bin and started killing people, and Andrew was mostly quiet. A good listener too, I thought. Too bad he was going back to England at the end of the day.  
  
I sat at my computer, scheduling meetings and sending out memos, and wondered what Andrew had done that warranted redemption (because he really hadn't looked all that evil the last time I'd seen him), and what had happened to the rest of his geeky little trio. And I couldn't help but think that believing in *me* was redemption enough for anything that sweet little Andrew could have ever done.  
  
Eventually Angel and Spike came back from wherever they'd been, and by that time all the important people--including Andrew, but excluding me--were crowded into one of the conference rooms. I listened at the door again, and this time, Andrew talked a lot. He talked about how when the world had almost ended Willow did this wicked spell, and how now there were a whole bunch of slayers--and how the loony bin girl was a slayer too. He sounded a little, well a lot, pretentious. But it was sort of cute; he was trying so hard to sound like he knew what he was talking about--but he actually did know what he was talking about.  
  
I was lost in thought when the doors burst open. I jumped out of the way and Spike strode out in a big swish of sexy, leather coat. Angel wasn't long after him, growling a warning to Spike about thinking before just going and doing something stupid.  
  
The rest of the group filed out, talking quietly amongst themselves and leaving Andrew sitting by himself at the table. He looked a little lonely, and for some reason I felt guilty. I put on a smile and waved airily. "So how did it go?" I asked. "I bet Mr. Giles would be way proud of you."  
  
Andrew shrugged non-commitally. "I don't know," he said almost wistfully. "Rupert is surprisingly hard to please."  
  
I thought briefly about the implications of that statement, and swallowed a giggle. But then, the thought of Andrew and the librarian was strangely alluring. I shook my head and focused on the matter at hand. "It sounded like you really know your stuff," I offered. He frowned in confusion and a cute little crinkle marked his brow. "I had my ear to the door," I explained.  
  
Andrew nodded, and then smiled brightly. "Thanks," he said. A moment of awkward silence passed, and then he gestured to a small paper lunch-bag on the table beside him. "Is there somewhere I can eat my lunch?" he asked.  
  
I looked over at the lunch-bag. His name and an English flag were painted on the side--someone who loved him had taken some serious time to do that. I felt a teensy stab of jealousy, because it had been like forever since I'd had someone in *my* life who'd cared that much about *me*. I sighed. "Yeah, there's a lunch room down the hall," I said listlessly. "I'll show you where it is if you want..."  
  
Andrew looked at me carefully for a moment, and then gave me a genuinely concerned frown. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you... I mean... I can stay and eat lunch here and we can talk about not being evil if you want?" He nodded to his lunch bag. "Xander packed carrots," he added temptingly.  
  
So Xander's the lunch-packer, I thought. That rumor Larry was passing around in high school must have been true, then. Well good for Xander; Andrew seemed like a good guy. And wouldn't they just make the cutest couple? I pushed the door closed and sank down in a chair beside Andrew at the table. "Does it get easier?" I demanded weakly.  
  
"Kinda," Andrew said, opening up his lunch-bag and laying its contents out on the table. "It gets easier if you have people who believe in you there for support. Carrot?" he offered up a little baggy filled with little carrots and shook it back and forth enticingly.  
  
I reached out and picked a carrot. I took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "Nobody here believes in me," I said dejectedly.  
  
Andrew cocked his head to the side compassionately. "I believe in you," he assured me.  
  
"Ha," I laughed bitterly.  
  
"Ha?" he asked.  
  
"Ha," I said firmly, taking another bite of carrot. "So the one person in the whole world who believes in me lives in a completely different country like halfway across the world." I popped the last of the carrot in my mouth and frowned.  
  
"Oh." Andrew frowned with me. "But I'm here *now*," he said. "And I'm sure I'm not the *only* person in the whole world who believes in you." I looked at him dubiously. "Well, you're a beautiful young woman," he added. "It'd be easy for you to make friends. I mean, if *I* can make friends, then *you* shouldn't have any problem. 'Nother carrot?" That sounded like a compliment. Maybe I'd been too hasty in deciding Andrew's preference.  
  
I took another carrot. "Does Xander always pack your lunch?" I asked carefully.  
  
Andrew snorted. "I wi--I mean, no."  
  
"Huh," I said. "I always thought he'd be one of those super-thoughtful boyfriends, you know?"  
  
"Oh, he is," Andrew assured me. "I mean, he doesn't have a girlfriend right now, but with Anya he was always really..." he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. "You think *I'm* dating Xander, don't you?"  
  
I nodded apologetically.  
  
"Why does everyone think that?" he whined. "Xander and I are *friends*," he demanded. "We're totally platonic. Except for that one time when Dawn made a love spell and accidentally left it on the counter, and I swear to god it looked just like cranberry juice, but no one ever believes me and Xander drank it too but they don't make fun of him half as much as-"   
  
"Okay, okay, I get it," I cut in. "Yeesh." Andrew pouted and just when I was starting to think he'd beat the habit, he crossed his arms over his chest. So not dating Xander. But that didn't mean he wouldn't if he got the chance. I sighed and changed the topic. "So what happened to your gang? You know, Jonathan and the other guy?"   
  
Andrew gave a little giggle, and then waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry," he said, smiling almost guiltily, "I've just never heard *Warren* get called the other guy." He put the bag of carrots down on the table and looked down at them thoughtfully. "They kinda got killed."  
  
"Oh," I said, taken aback. "...Who killed them?"  
  
"Willow killed Warren." He poked at the carrots.  
  
"Willow?" I asked, stupefied. I mean, I knew she was a goodie and this Warren guy was a baddie... but still... "What happened?"  
  
"He... He shot Willow's girlfriend and she flipped out." Andrew gave a little shrug and his bangs fell back onto his forehead. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush them back. "She tortured him, and then skinned him alive. He deserved it."  
  
Wow. "So she killed Jonathan too?" I guessed. "And what did you do, you know, that you need to redeem yourself for?" I asked. "I mean, I saw you when you were evil... But honestly? You weren't all that evil."  
  
He looked up at me, and there was something dark in his eyes that made me think maybe things had changed after I sent the nerds packing with my *supposedly* capable minions. "Willow didn't kill Jonathan," he said pointedly.  
  
So *Andrew* killed Jonathan? Wow again. And kinda sad, too, because I went to school with Jonathan. I mean, sure, we weren't ever friends or anything. Actually, I think I was pretty mean to him every time I saw him. But still, we survived high school together. Well, *he* survived high school...  
  
Andrew glanced at his watch and sighed. "Well," he said, "I should go phone Rupert and fill him in on my progress." He packed the remnants of his lunch back into its bag and rose from his chair. "It was nice to see you again, Harmony," he said. "If you ever come to England you'll have to come visit me."  
  
"For sure," I said absently, still somewhat stunned by my little dweeb being a killer. I looked up just as he opened the door to leave. "Andrew?" I called, and he turned. "For what it's worth, I believe in you too." Andrew smiled warmly, and then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
I sat and stared at the closed door for a while after he'd gone, amazed at how lonely I must have been to sit there and spill my un-beating heart to a virtual stranger.   
  
A virtual stranger who'd listened and felt concern and who actually believed that I could be a good person again, I reminded myself. Andrew believed in me. He believed in *me*. "Are you gonna just let the one person who believes in you walk out the door and go back to England?" I asked myself.   
  
And then I made a really, really dumb decision.  
  
***  
  
Andrew woke up, bound and gagged and propped up in a chair at my kitchen table. He looked confused, and a little scared--and if I'd been evil, that would have totally turned me on. But I wasn't bad anymore, so it totally had no affect on me at all. Nope, not one bit.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Andrew," I assured him. "I just couldn't let you go." He squirmed in his chair and mumbled something inaudible thanks to the duct-tape stuck securely over his lips. I wrung my hands and paced around my kitchen as I explained myself. "See, you said being good was easier if you had people that believe about you around." I gestured grandly to him. "And you believe in me. So I--" Andrew was trying his hardest to say something despite the gag, and the constant muttering was getting *really* irritating. I stooped over him. "Andrew, I'll take off the tape, but you have to promise not to scream, okay?" He nodded emphatically, so I raised a hand and ripped the tape off in one swift jerk.  
  
Andrew screamed like a girl.  
  
"Andrew!" I hissed. "You promised you wouldn't scream!"  
  
He flexed his jaw. "Sorry," he offered. "But that really hurt."  
  
"Oh," I said, rolling up the scrap of tape and tossing it onto the counter. "Sorry."  
  
"What happened?" Andrew asked slowly, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "I was waiting at the airport, and then I remember going through security at the airport, and then I went to call home and..." He looked at me in disbelief. "Harmony, did you kidnap me?"  
  
"I followed you into the airport, and then when you went to use the phone I hit you on the head and brought you back here." I shrugged. "I had to do it," I insisted. "No one else here believes that I can be good!"  
  
"Well do you kidnap people a lot?" Andrew demanded. "Because I can understand how that might--"   
  
"Don't think of it as a kidnapping," I pleaded. "Think of it more like..." I smiled brightly, "like an extended sleep over!" Andrew looked unconvinced. "We can do facials and rent movies and... and I really am sorry." I sank down into a chair beside my hostage at the table. He was taking things a lot better than I thought he would. I sighed. "Why do I feel so guilty?" I asked.  
  
"Because you kidnapped me?" Andrew suggested.  
  
"Well duh," I agreed. "But I've kidnapped people before and I never felt *guilty* about it."  
  
Andrew nodded knowingly, and his bangs fell over his forehead, covering the little bump that had formed where I'd hit him earlier at the airport. "That's because you're good now," he said. Then he pursed his lips and tried unsuccessfully to blow his bangs back into place. "A little help?" he asked.  
  
I reached over and lightly brushed his hair back off of his face. It was surprisingly soft on my fingers and I had to turn away to stop myself from thinking about biting him. Maybe it was that he was so darn nice to me, but being alone with Andrew was putting all sorts of ideas in my head--and not all of them revolved around drinking him dry and then ditching the corpse in the dumpster downstairs. I couldn't make up my mind whether or not that was a good thing. "I don't think I can be good," I mused out loud. "I mean, I'm a vampire right?" I pointed to myself. "Soulless demon, remember?" Andrew nodded slowly. "So is it even possible for me to *not* be evil?"  
  
"Well, Spike--"  
  
"Has a soul," I cut in.  
  
"Yeah," Andrew agreed reluctantly. "But he was good before he got the soul too." He frowned. "I think..."  
  
"He wasn't," I offered. "And he isn't all that good now, either."  
  
Andrew was quiet for a moment, thinking, and he bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "What about Angel?" he suggested.  
  
"Soul," I reminded him.  
  
"Oh yeah." Suddenly Andrew's face brightened. "Why don't you get your soul back?" he asked excitedly.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Andrew, Spike told me all about the trials he had to go through to get his back." I shook my head. "They were wicked hard, and *he* barely passed them all. What hope would *I* have?"  
  
Andrew's face fell. "I still think you can be good without your soul," he said quietly.  
  
I sighed. "How hard did I hit you?" I asked. "Remember the whole assault and kidnapping thing?" I shook my head at myself. "Having a hostage in my kitchen doesn't exactly scream 'I'm a good person'."  
  
"Well, you could let me go," Andrew suggested.  
  
I snorted. "Nice try."  
  
He frowned. "At least untie me," he pleaded. "I swear I won't try to escape."  
  
I looked at him carefully. His hair had fallen back over his forehead, and matched with his big, blue eyes he looked so sweet and innocent. I wanted to bite him *so* bad. I sighed and decided that it might be a good idea to untie him so that he'd have a fighting chance if I gave in to the need to feed. "Okay," I said, stepping behind him and untying him. "But if you try to run I'm totally eating you." In front of me, Andrew swallowed and nodded gravely. Beneath his hair's soft curls, his neck looked smooth and inviting. I dropped the ropes to the ground and moved to the fridge to find some blood and hopefully satisfy my stupid stomach.  
  
"You know," Andrew said, "I could still believe in you from England."   
  
I grabbed my thermos from the fridge, opened it and took a long drink. "You just wanna go back home to your-" I made a kissy face and batted my eyelashes at him, "-boyfriend *Xander*."  
  
Andrew shot a spectacular glare my way. "He's *so* not my boyfriend."  
  
"Okay, fine," I glared back. "*Rupert* then."  
  
I didn't think it would be possible, but he glared even harder. "*Rupert* isn't my boyfriend either. We're colleagues. Friends. And he has a very nice girlfriend. And why do you think I want to go home to a *boyfriend*? Couldn't I want to go home to my *girlfriend*?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.  
  
I faltered. Ever since earlier at the office, I hadn't made up my mind over the prospect of Andrew and *girls*. I eyed him over carefully, taking in the dark-blonde, soft, wavy hair; the big eyes and long, full lashes; the pouty lips; the long, slim fingers draped over the back of the chair neatly... "Fine then," I said. "Girlfriend. Whatever." I took another swig out of the thermos and then slipped it back into the fridge. "Is there?" I asked. "You know, a girlfriend?" I held my breath for a second, and then mentally kicked myself. Why would I care if he had a girlfriend.  
  
Andrew turned his eyes down to the floor. "No," he said sulkily. "But that doesn't mean that there couldn't be."  
  
I smiled. And then frowned and nodded supportively. "Of course you could," I assured him, leaning down and patting him on the shoulder. And then, just when I was being totally supportive, the little dweeb tossed the ropes I'd set on the floor over my wrist and tried to... well, I guess he was trying to tie me up so he could get away or something. And he was faster and stronger than he looked--I'll give him that. But, hello? I'm a fricken vampire.  
  
So before he got the chance to follow through on whatever lame-ass plan he was planning, I had him by the collar, pinned up against the wall. "Ouch," he complained softly. "Please let me go."  
  
"No," I snapped, rolling my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't try to escape!"  
  
Andrew smiled uncomfortably. "Sorry, I--"  
  
"Sorry nothing, mister," I growled. "I told you that if you tried to escape, I'd eat you, and I wasn't joking, either." Andrew whimpered. I narrowed my eyes and let them drift down along his jaw to the soft line of his neck. I could almost *hear* his blood pumping.  
  
"Please don't eat me," he pleaded.  
  
I smiled brightly. "If you didn't want to be eaten, you shouldn't have tried to escape." I put on my lumpy face and leaned in. I felt Andrew shiver, and as my lips touched his skin--which was *so* soft, by the way--he sucked in a sharp breath. I bared my teeth and opened wide, and then I smelled it. "Oh my god," I said, stepping back to an arm's length. "Andrew, did you... pee your pants?" How gross is that. Maybe he didn't have potential after all. I shook my head and put my human face back on.   
  
Andrew closed his eyes. He looked mortified. "I'm sorry," he whined. "I just... you scared me. And I had a big cup of coffee at the airport. And I haven't been to the bathroom since you kidnapped me."  
  
I released his collar. Great, I felt guilty again. "It's okay, Andrew," I assured him. "I'm sorry I scared you. But if you needed to use the bathroom, why didn't you just ask?" He wrung his hands and bit his lip nervously. I eyed the large, icky wet spot on Andrew's pants and grimaced.   
  
"Do you have a pair of pants I could borrow?" he asked quietly.   
  
I groaned. "You see, *this* is why I need you here," I said.  
  
"So I can borrow your clothes when I have an accident?" he asked, slightly confused. "Because, in my defense, this doesn't happen very often. Actually, more like never at--"  
  
"No," I cut in. "See how good I'm being?" I asked. "I didn't bite you, and now I'm feeling *way* guilty for having wanted to do it, *and* I'm feeling guilty for kidnapping you in the first place!" I smiled excitedly. "And it's all because you're here!" I bounced on my feet happily, and pulled a confused and awkward looking Andrew into a hug. And then I remembered, you know, the wet spot, and pushed back to an arm's length again.  
  
"Could I maybe have a shower?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
***  
  
"Okay, Harmony," I thought to myself. "Just what the heck do you think you're doing?"   
  
"Well," I answered, "you're staring through a conveniently placed crack in the wall at you hostage getting ready to shower."  
  
Okay, so I knew what I was doing. I just wasn't so sure *why*. I mean, yes, Andrew was cute and sweet (and I was just finding out that he had a great little body, by the way) and I did feel the need to keep a close eye on him after his little getaway attempt. But I think the watching him undressing had a lot less to do with the not wanting to let him get away, and a lot more to do with the whole he's hot thing. Okay, there, I admitted it: Andrew was hot. And if he really was straight, then, I reasoned, why not try to convince him stay of his own free will? *I* could be his girlfriend, and we could believe in each other, and (Oh god, look at that ass.) I could get him a job at (That's it, turn around for me, Andy. Wow.) Wolfram & Hart. I stopped thinking and turned all my attention to ogling as Andrew stepped into the shower.  
  
I was so occupied by imagining all the amazing things I could do with a wet, soapy Andrew that my balance wavered and my head bonked against the wall. It made a thud louder than should have been possible, and I looked up from cursing my clumsiness just in time to see Andrew frozen like a deer in the headlights, his hands instinctively moving to cover his nakedness. So modest! How cute is that? But anyway, he was squinting through the glass shower wall. Directly. At. Me.  
  
"Oh crap," I whispered, crossing my fingers and praying that the crack in the wall was small enough that Andrew couldn't see through it. I held my breath and kept as still as I could, figuring that if he couldn't see me already, any extra movement would totally give me away.  
  
An insanely long moment passed, and then he seemed to relax. He uncovered himself (*Very* nice, in case you were wondering. And I'd definitely have to rethink thinking about him as a 'little guy'.) and went back to washing. He looked so innocent and vulnerable, and it made me feel really horrible for... you know, kidnapping him. "Harmony," I thought, "if you want to be good, you're just gonna have to start acting the part."  
  
I sighed quietly and withdrew from my watching post to go back into the kitchen. When Andrew came out, I decided, I would tell him that I was really, really, *really* sorry and that he was free to go.  
  
Ugh, but there was this huge part of me that totally wished he'd want to stay anyway. I could just imagine him going, "Oh, Harmony, don't apologize! It's okay, because I really wanted to stay here with you anyway." And I'd be like, "Really?" And he'd say, "Totally. Because we understand each other--and you're super hot." And then I'd blush and be all coy, and he'd take me in his arms and sweep me off my feet and kiss me like we were in a movie or something.  
  
I sighed dreamily and sat down at the kitchen table--just as I heard the bathroom door open.  
  
Andrew padded into the kitchen, and I didn't think it would be possible, but he looked completely sexy in the pink flannel pajama bottoms that I leant him. "Did you... have a good shower? You pull of pink pretty well, by the way." Real smooth, Harmony. And when did I go and get so nervous anyway? ...Probably about the time I saw Andrew's lithe little body all wet and lathered up...  
  
He shifted from foot to foot and nodded. "Did you... drop something, or...? Because I heard a bump. When I was, you know, in the shower?"  
  
"Oh..." I started. "Because I didn't hear anything. Are you sure you heard something?" He looked unconvinced. "Um... Pipes! It was probably just the pipes," I exclaimed as a stroke of genius hit me. "This is a very old building," I explained hopefully. Andrew seemed to buy it, and he came and joined me at the table. He smelled like soap and hot water and I'm positive I never smell that good when I get out the shower. "Look, Andrew, I'm *really* sorry," I offered desperately. "I should never have kidnapped you."  
  
He shrugged. "It's okay," he said--and FYI, if my heart still beat it would have been going a mile a minute.  
  
"Because you wanted to stay anyway?" I asked hopefully.  
  
"Well, no..." He looked a little confused, and my face fell. "I mean, because you're a vampire, like you said. You're evil by nature."  
  
My face fell even more. I couldn't believe it. This was the guy who was supposed to believe in me, and he just admitted that I was inherit... inhering... That I was naturally evil. "But, you said you believed in me," I whined, on the brink of tears. "Is this because of the kidnapping thing? Because I said I was sorry."  
  
"No!" Andrew assured me. "Don't cry. I do believe in you." He smiled at me sweetly, and if I had been mad at him, that would have totally smoothed things over. "I mean, I think maybe you're being as good as you can be. Being inherently evil and all." He looked at me carefully. "It's like when Sponge Bob made friends with Plankton," he said suddenly.  
  
"Who's Sponge Bob?" I asked.   
  
Andrew looked briefly mortified, and then shook it off. "It doesn't matter," he explained. "What matters is that you're trying to be good, and you are being good."  
  
"Hello? I kidnapped you!" I pointed out.  
  
"But you feel bad about it, right?" Andrew asked, folding his hands neatly on the table.  
  
"Well duh," I said. "But I still did it." I sighed. "I'm just a stupid villain."  
  
"What?" Andrew asked. "You're not a stupid villain. Well, maybe a bit stupid if you don't know who Sponge Bob is."  
  
I threw my hands in the air. "Then please, enlighten me."  
  
"He lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Andrew prompted. "Yellow absorbent and porous is he?" I shook my head and shrugged apologetically. Andrew sighed. "It's a cartoon. He's a yellow sponge."  
  
"You compared me to an ugly old sponge?" I demanded.  
  
"No, I compared you to *Plankton*," Andrew explained. "Who's this little, one-eyed... plankton thing."  
  
I scoffed. "Great," I said. "So you think I'm evil, stupid, *and* ugly."  
  
"What?" Andrew asked, aghast. "You know I don't think you're evil. And I was kidding about the stupid thing. And... and..." he trailed off and glanced down at the table. "And Ithinkyrhot."  
  
"What?"  
  
He sighed, and looked up at me. "I think you're hot."  
  
Oh. Oh! "Really?" I asked excitedly. Well, not too excitedly, because I didn't want to come across too desperate or anything.  
  
"Really," he agreed. "I mean, not that my opinion matters or anything."  
  
"Huh?" I asked, suddenly a little confused.  
  
"Well, I mean, you'd probably rather have... I don't know, Spike's opinion. Or Angel's. Or... whoever. Just, you know, someone *you* think is hot."  
  
Aw. I gave him a reassuring smile. "Andrew, I think *you're* hot." He blushed. *So* cute. I just wanted to eat him up. But metaphorically, not in the evil, vampire way.  
  
"Thanks," he said. "But you don't have to... I mean, just because I'm your hostage, doesn't mean you have to make me feel good about myself."  
  
"Andrew, I'm not lying," I assured him. "I mean look at you!" I looked him up and down. "You've got those big eyes, and the wicked pouty lips, and under all those clothes you've got a great bod--I mean, I bet under all those clothes you've..." Andrew was looking at me with a little half smile. I wasn't fooling anyone. I sighed. "Okay fine. I spied on you while you were in the shower. This building is new. The bump you heard was my head hitting the wall because I was so busy ogling you that I got all light headed..." I hung my head and added, "I'm sorry." Andrew was quiet, and I fully expected to look up and find him pissed right off with smoke coming out of his ears or something. But when I did look up, he was just blushing a little and wearing this sort of sheepish grin. "So you don't... mind?" I asked. "You know, that I went all Peeping Tom on you?"  
  
He waved a nervous hand dissmissively. "I'm flattered," he said. "I mean, not that I like being watched..."   
  
He went so red that I could almost feel the heat coming off of him. I willed him to get up, come over, and kiss me. But obviously my wishful mind-control didn't do diddly, and he stayed where he was. I sighed. It was time to set my prisoner free. I just hoped that now he'd maybe think about staying anyway. "Andrew, I shouldn't have kidnapped you," I said reluctantly. "You're free to go. You know, if you want to."  
  
"Really?" he asked. I nodded. He wasn't bolting for the door, which I took as a good sign. But he seemed really pleased about being allowed to go.  
  
"Yes," I assured him. "You're free to leave."  
  
"No, I mean..." he fidgeted nervously. "I can stay? If I want to?"  
  
Yes!! I barely contained my urge to jump up on the table and do a happy dance. "Of course you can stay," I assured him.  
  
Andrew smiled broadly, and I think it was the best smile I've ever seen. "Because I like England, but... I mean, if I could stay here... with you? That would be *so* cool." He nodded reverently. "I'd be a really good boyfriend. I mean if you wanted me to be your boyfriend," he said. "I could cook for you, and I'll do laundry, and give you foot-rubs." He beamed.  
  
Okay, Andrew, I thought. I get it. You'll be a great boyfriend. I resisted the urge to tell him to just shut up and take me.  
  
"Ooh, and maybe I could get a job at Wolfram & Hart, and then we could work together and then I could come visit you at lunch time and we could--"  
  
I lost my patience and, I'm not embarrassed to admit, lust took over. I lunged up onto the table and pulled Andrew up beside me. "Shut up and kiss me," I demanded.  
  
For a split second, a look of terror crossed his face and I was worried I might have to lend him another pair of pants, but then I felt a warm hand cup my breast (and I wouldn't have pegged him as a breast man, but you never can tell, right?). And then his lips were on mine and it was... kinda weird. Our teeth clunked together. I accidentally bit his tongue. His shirtsleeve snagged on the underwire of my bra. Our foreheads bonked together painfully.  
  
After a minute, when things hadn't gotten any less awkward, we both pulled back.  
  
"That was..." Andrew rubbed his head uncomfortably.  
  
"You could probably still make your plane if we left right now," I suggested.  
  
***  
  
Thankfully, the kidnapping and the aftermath of the kidnapping hadn't taken long, and we arrived at airport security just as they were making the last call for Andrew's flight. I prayed the goodbye wouldn't be too awkward.  
  
"I guess I'd better go," Andrew started.  
  
"I guess," I agreed. We went to hug, but thankfully, settled for a firm handshake. "Call me sometime, okay?" I insisted. He nodded. "And I really am sorry," I added. "About the kidnapping. And everything."  
  
"It's okay," he assured me. "I kinda had fun."  
  
How sweet was that? "Oh, what the hell," I said, giving up and pulling him into a hug. It was warm and friendly, and not awkward at all--which was a total relief.  
  
"I really do believe in you," he said when we'd let go.  
  
"I know," I said. The security guy looked at us and tapped his watch pointedly. I glared at him and he backed off. "You'd better go," I said, patting Andrew's arm softly.  
  
He turned to leave, but paused mid-step. "Harmony, you know, what I believe doesn't really matter," he said. "You'll never be good unless you learn to believe in yourself." He was right, and I smiled broadly and waved enthusiastically as the security guy ushered him away towards the plane.  
  
I continued to wave until they'd passed out of sight and then I went and found a big window that looked out on Andrew's plane so that I could watch as it got ready to go. A soft light came from each little window and, in the darkness, almost made the plane glow. I thought about how right Andrew was, and how I was actually starting to believe in myself. I *would* be good, I decided, no matter what. Well, unless it meant doing something evil, but if I'm trying to be good, then that sort of goes without saying, doesn't it?  
  
I wasn't as upset by the whole 'me and Andrew not working out' thing as you might have expected. Yeah, he'd had some wicked potential, but I guess it just wasn't meant for me. It would have been nice to have someone around who believed in me--but, I guess, thanks to Andrew I did: me.  
  
I sank down onto a chair facing the window, and I thought about all the people in the airport that I could--but *wouldn't*--eat. Not because the firm would get mad and Angel would kill me, or because Andrew would be disappointed, but simply because I believed it wasn't the good thing to do. My stomach growled and I halfheartedly cursed Andrew for pointing out that I had to believe in myself. It would have been so much easier to just be evil.  
  
The plane rolled slowly off towards the runway. "I hope being good is worth all the work," I thought. A tall, handsome and trusting looking man with a long, smooth neck walked by. I pouted.  
  
I should have just eaten Andrew when I had the chance.  
  
The End. 


	2. No Harm, No Foul

Title: No Harm, No Foul

Author: Whiskey Meteor

Rating: PG

Summary: Andrew has a good talk with some airplane passengers on his way back to England. And then gets a little surprise when they arrive.

Disclaimer/Notes: Takes place in Ats season 5. Sort of a rewrite of the episode in which Andrew makes a cameo over. Carries on from the end of Restoring Harmony. This time from Andrew's point of view

________________________________________________________________

I squeezed into my seat as quickly as I could. It was a crappy seat--right in the middle of the center cluster of seats; and because they were waiting for *me* before the plane could leave, everyone was already seated. ...And sort of pissed off about waiting. There was a large woman on my right and an even larger woman on my left, and they both looked like the talkative type. I groaned silently, dreading the inevitable boring conversations I'd be dragged into over the hundred-hour flight back to England. I'm joking of course, it's more like seven, but it's still a really long flight.

If I strained my eyes and my neck I could see a tiny figure standing in the window of the airport terminal. It might have been Harmony. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that it probably wasn't. I mean, why would she stay to watch my plane leave? For a minute I imagined that she was like Sam and I was Frodo, sailing away to the Undying Lands. Maybe she just wanted to make sure I was really gone so she'd be certain she was rid of me.

I couldn't believe the mess I'd made of everything. Well, not everything, just the Harmony thing. I'd had a chance with a super-hot (albeit vampiric) girl who actually liked me back, and I'd completely screwed it up. It was like a Star Wars prequel--all the potential for an unprecedented success was there, but when it actually happened, it was a total flop.

I groaned and rolled my eyes at myself, and the woman on my right eyed me curiously. I considered explaining, but I wouldn't have known where to start. I looked down at my knees and the woman eventually lost interest in staring at me when the stewardess came out to give us the little safety speech. I looked up and pretended to be interested in learning where all the emergency exits were. But I wasn't paying attention. I just kept going over it all in my mind: pretty girl, mutual attraction, abysmal kiss. What went wrong? It just didn't make any sense.

The stewardess finished her safety lecture and the plane began to move, taxiing slowly over towards the runway. I used to be afraid of flying--before England, anyway. But in the past few months I'd been on a plane practically every week. It still wasn't what I'd call fun, but I wasn't terrified anymore, and that was something. 

The cabin shook a little as the plane sped up down the runway, and then everything tipped back and I knew we were taking off.

On my very first flight--from L.A. to England after the whole First thing--I sat beside Xander, and I was so freaked out that he had to hold my hand to calm me down. I thought it was so sweet of him, that later on when he fell asleep and drooled all over my shoulder, I didn't even complain. He said sometime I could drool on *him*, and then we'd be even. And then he blushed.

The woman on my left patted my arm all of a sudden, and I jumped. "I'm Carol," she said. "Not a good flyer, honey? You look a little tense." She had an American accent, and I wondered fleetingly if she was sort of between home countries, like me.

"I'm Andrew," I offered. "And no. Well, kinda." I shrugged. "I'm okay with planes. Mostly. But there was this whole thing with a girl. And a kidnapping."

Carol's eyes went wide. "You kidnapped a girl?"

"No, she kidnapped... You know, I'd really rather not talk about it, okay?" Unlike some people, I just didn't feel comfortable discussing my life with complete strangers on airplanes. 

Carol smiled. "Sure honey," she said.

"It's just," I started, "she was really cute and nice--well, sort of. I mean, in her own way, you know? Kinda like Cat Woman, but without the whip and the latex cat suit? And she *liked* me, and I liked her--or at least I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure--and then we kissed, and it wasn't good at all. Like imagine Spock and Yoda dating. It just doesn't work, right? At least not past the thinking about it stage. And it couldn't have been her, because she dated Spike, so she's gotta be way experienced, right? So it had to be my fault, but I can't figure out why." I took a deep breath. Carol looked a little sorry for having asked in the first place. But she had asked, and she wasn't going to get away now that she'd got me started. "So what's wrong with me?" I pleaded.

Carol looked at me thoughtfully. "Honey, I don't know if *I* can answer that for you," she said at length. "This might be something that you have to figure out on your own."

Nice try, I thought. "I've been trying to remember all my first kisses," I said, ignoring Carol's attempt at disengaging from the conversation. "Like to see if there's a pattern or something?" Carol sat back in her chair, getting ready to listen. "Like maybe I'm just a crappy kisser, you know?" 

"I'm sure you're not, honey," she assured me.

"Okay," I said, concentrating and thinking back. "My first kiss was with Shelly Heywood. At recess, by the jungle gym in fourth grade."

"And how was it?" Carol asked.

I shrugged. "It was okay. I guess."

"Well what did she think?" the woman on my other side asked abruptly. She had an English accent--smooth like Giles'. Carol and I turned to look at her curiously. "Sorry," she said, "I couldn't help but overhear. My name is Sarah." She gave a little wave. Carol and I waved back. "And what did Shelly think?" Sarah prompted. "About the kiss, that is."

"I don't really remember," I admitted. "But there wasn't a sequel, so she couldn't have been too impressed." The women nodded thoughtfully. "And then there was Emily Watkins." I frowned, remembering. "It was bad. She hit me," I said. "I didn't really like her anyway. I only did it on a dare. Which might have had something to do with her hitting me..." I was quiet for a moment, and then Sarah nudged my shoulder.

"And then?" she asked.

"Then there was..." I looked down and fidgeted. Nobody knew about my next kiss. I sighed, thinking, what the hell, I'd probably never see these women again anyway. "Then there was Warren." I blushed despite myself. Carol looked a little confused for a second, but then understanding seemed to hit.

"And how was the kiss?" she asked. "With... him"

"Wonderful," I admitted reluctantly. "It was in the van, and Jonathan was out testing Buffy..." Now both women looked confused. "Long story," I explained. "But he kissed me, and at first I didn't want to, but then it was really... good."

"And what did he think?" Sarah asked.

"He said," I closed my eyes so I could picture the memory, "Andrew, you're amazing. Never let me say you're talentless again, okay?"

"This Warren fellow doesn't sound like a very nice boy," Sarah offered.

"He wasn't," I admitted. "But the kisses were very, very nice."

"So there were more kisses?" Carol asked carefully. 

I nodded. "Only a few, though. There wasn't a lot of time, and we were hardly ever alone. And then Willow skinn--I mean, he sort of... went away."

"He left you?" Carol asked.

"No," I sighed. "It's complicated. We weren't really *together*, you know?"

"So what happened after Warren, then?" Sarah prompted.

"Not a lot," I admitted. "I sent Dawn a card on Valentine's Day, but Buffy threatened me, so... I didn't like her that way, anyway. I just thought it would be nice to send her a card 'cause we're sorta friends." I waved my hands dismissively. "And then there was the whole... thing with Xander." I decided it would be best to leave out the love spell detail. I didn't want Carol and Sarah to think I was a total freakazoid. ...Even if I was.

"And what happened with Xander, honey?" Carol asked.

I fidgeted. This was going to be hard to explain fully... without explaining fully. "There was a... misunderstanding?" I started, and then closed my eyes to remember. There was a container of red liquid on the counter. Xander and I were alone in the house. He thought it was cranberry juice and poured us each a glass. And then, about halfway through dinner, things got interesting: Xander swept the plates off of the table--no wait. I'm pretty sure it was me. Maybe it was a mutual sweeping?--and then... Well, it was amazing. His hands were so rough, but he was so gentle that he could have been wearing oven mitts for all I cared. And his lips? Oh god. And his... Wow. And then we were on the table, and... naked, and then... And then it felt so good I could have died happy right then and there. And when it was over he said he loved me, and I said it too. I know it was just the love potion, but it felt real. I was so happy that I cried, and Xander just held me really close and kissed me until the tears stopped coming.

When Giles and Dawn came back later, we were dressed again, but in the process of getting undressed again. Dawn apologized like a million times and Giles was really mad and did that quiet disappointment thing, but when the spell wore off Xander said it was okay, because nothing happened--at least, nothing more than they saw happen. It was nice of him. I guess. 

I opened my eyes and looked back at Carol and Sarah, who were waiting patiently for me to elaborate. "We... sort of accidentally kissed," I said, sparing them the details.

"And?" Sarah asked.

I sighed heavily. "And it was the best night of my life," I said sadly. And it had been. No wonder the kiss with Harmony had sucked. Anything after Xander would be crap by comparison.

Carol looked confused again. "So, then why aren't you with Xander?" she asked.

"Duh," I said. "Because he's not interested?"

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked.

I pouted. I needed a carrot. I dug quickly into my carry-on and fished out my lunch bag. "I'm sure," I said, offering the bag to the two women.

"Aren't you smart to pack a snack," Sarah said, carefully taking a carrot.

"It's just leftovers from lunch," I explained. "And credit should go to Xander for packing it." Carol quirked an eyebrow. "What?" I asked, perplexed.

"Did he paint the bag for you too, dear?" Sarah asked.

I looked down at the lunch bag. I'd almost forgotten it was decorated. Since he'd gone to England, Xander had been officially unemployed. Dawn called him Unemployed Man for a while. She made him a cape and everything. And when he was on lunch duty, my bag always got decorated. I guess I'd just started taking it for granted. "Yeah," I said, "he did."

Carol smiled at Sarah knowingly. "Honey, are you *sure* he's not interested?" she asked me.

"Carol's right, Andrew," Sarah chipped in. "Maybe what happened between you and Xander wasn't all that accidental."

Of course it was, I thought. If it hadn't have been fort he love potion, it never would have happened. I munched thoughtfully on a carrot, suddenly unsure of whether or not that fact disappointed me. And why did Xander spend so much time decorating my lunch bags anyway? Sometimes Dawn got a smiley face--and sometimes Giles got a smiley face with glasses. But I got my name in big, bold letters and brightly colored, though slightly confusing, pictures. They weren't offensive or anything. Actually, there was something sort of... comforting about them that I just couldn't put my finger on.

Once there was a hammer with little nails; and another time a glass filled with pink juice; and then there was a little parrot that was so cool I'd kept it, folded neatly, in one of my drawers. I wasn't sure if they'd meant something, and if they had, I had no idea what it was. And ever since the love potion thing, I'd been too embarrassed to ask. We hadn't talked a lot since then. I mean, not like we talked a lot before then, but afterwards, he sort of avoided talking to me.

"What are you thinking about, honey?" Carol asked, interrupting my train of thought.

"Hm?" I looked up at her. "Oh, nothing." I tucked my lunch bag into my carry-on and settled back into my seat. "I've had a long day," I explained. "Thanks for listening. I'm gonna try to get some sleep now, okay?" Both women offered me comforting smiles as I put my head back and closed my eyes. I didn't think that I was all that tired, but as soon as my eyes shut, I drifted off. I guess being kidnapped really tires you out.

***

"...doesn't know? Like Andrew?" I woke to Carol's voice in a whisper, and opened my eyes quietly. She was talking to Sarah, who had left her seat and was crouched in the aisle beside the other woman.

"You really think that he doesn't know?" Sarah asked quietly.

I cleared my throat, and both women turned my way. Carol smiled sweetly. "Sleep well, honey?" she asked.

I frowned. "Who doesn't know like Andrew what?" I asked.

Sarah laughed uncomfortably. "We were just talking," she said, "and I thought that perhaps your friend Xander isn't aware that he's interested in you."

Carol nodded in agreement. "Mm-hm," she said. "We think he just hasn't figured it out yet. That he's, you know, gay."

I frowned a little harder and crossed my arms over my chest. "And what about the 'like Andrew' part?" I asked firmly.

The women exchanged glances. Carol cleared her throat. "Honey," she said, "have you thought that maybe your physical relationships with women haven't been great could be because you don't like... women?"

I gasped. The thought actually hadn't crossed my mind. "Do you... I mean..." I stuttered.

Carol patted my arm reassuringly, and Sarah walked around back to her seat. "You really hadn't thought about it that way, had you?" she asked as she sat back down beside me. I shook my head slowly.

"Well, it's not the end of the world," Carol said softly.

"What?" I asked, suddenly coming back to myself. "No, I... I mean, I'm not upset," I said. "I just... that sort of explains everything, doesn't it?" Both women nodded. "So I'm not a bad kisser. I was just kissing the wrong people."

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Sarah asked sweetly.

I nodded. It did make sense. And I can't believe I hadn't considered it. I mean, I kissed girls and it invariably totally sucked, and I kissed boys and it (so far, anyway) had always been totally awesome. But... "But Harmony was hot," I said. "I mean, *I* thought she was hot. And why would I think that if I don't like girls?"

"Well, honey," Carol said, "that just means you know an attractive woman when you see one."  


"I can look at another woman and find her attractive, and that doesn't make me gay." Sarah added. "So there's no reason that it should make you straight." Women, I thought, are *so* smart.

Carol nodded. "Most women can," she said. "And I'm sure that if most men weren't so uncomfortable with their sexuality, they could too."

"You're a credit to your gender, Andrew," Sarah offered. I smiled. It was nice to be a credit to anything.

"So I'm gay," I said. It sounded okay. And it felt sorta good to say it. "I'm gay." My smile grew. "I can't wait to tell Willow and Kennedy," I said. We could start a club or something. Like the Super Gay Friends. That would be so cool. "And maybe now Buffy'll stop glaring at me every time I talk to her sister," I mused. "And Giles... I can already see him cleaning his glasses."

"And Xander?" Carol asked carefully. "Are you excited about telling him as well?"

I frowned. What would Xander do when I told him? Would things with him be more uncomfortable when he found out?

"I think he'll be excited to hear it," Sarah said in my silence. "Maybe it will serve as the push he needs."

Carol nodded sagely. "If he knows that you're gay, he's more likely to realize the truth about his own orientation."

I shook my head. "I don't understand why you think he's gay," I admitted. "Or why you think he'd be interested in me if he were."

"Well you could always do a spell of some sort," Sarah said. I turned to her, mildly shocked.

"I have a friend in Newcastle who's part of a coven," Carol added. "I could call her for you if you'd like?"

Well what do you know. Either the magic community was growing, or I'd reached the point where they were just attracted to me. Like Xander and demons. Or Ring Wraiths to the one ring. "That's okay," I said. "I'm kinda... in that line of work too."

"Then you could try that," Sarah suggested. "Just to get the ball rolling, as it were?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, sure, you get what you want, and it's fabulous, and he's gentle and rough in all the right ways, and you both think you're in love, but then when it wears off it's all awkward and you're back to having nothing."

Carol smiled knowingly. "There's something you're not telling us, isn't there honey?" Damn her woman's intuition.

I hung my head. "Yes," I admitted.

"So you and Xander...?" Sarah ventured. I nodded.

"And the misunderstanding you were talking about was a love potion," Carol guessed. 

I nodded again. "But I didn't mean to put a spell on him," I explained. "It wasn't my potion, and we thought it was juice." I sighed. "It looked just like juice. Just a glass filled with red-" I stopped. Something had just occurred to me. "The glass on the lunch bag," I thought out loud. "Why would he draw that on my lunch bag?"

"Draw what, honey?" Carol asked.

"Xander packs our lunches sometimes," I explained, "and he draws stuff on them." I reached into my carry-on bag and pulled out the lunch bag as evidence. "After the potion incident," I went on, "he drew a glass on my bag. With red juice. Just like when we drank the love potion."

Sarah smiled and nodded. "There," she said, "didn't we tell you he was interested."

"He was probably trying to remind you of what happened," Carol chimed in. "He obviously still thinks about it."

"What else has he drawn on your lunch bags?" Sarah asked thoughtfully.

"Well, this," I said, holding up the current bag, which was painted with the English flag.

"To remind you where home is," Carol exclaimed. "To remind you where he's waiting for you."

"What else?" Sarah demanded.

"Um," I said, thinking. "A hammer, and nails." The two women looked at each other thoughtfully. "Ooh!" I exclaimed, an obvious thought suddenly connecting. "He's a carpenter!"

"Well, there," Sarah nodded. "That's a direct reminder of him."

"He wants you to keep him on your mind," Carol agreed.

Why hasn't this occurred to me before, I thought? "And there was a parrot," I said. "Which makes sense because of the eye-patch." The women looked at me, confused. "Xander," I explained. "He has an eye-patch."

"Whether he knows it or not," Sarah said, "that boy has feelings for you."

"Why wouldn't he just say something?" I asked.

"Maybe he's not sure about his feelings yet," Carol suggested. "Or maybe he's worried about your feelings in return."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "No offense meant, Andrew, but when it comes to understanding and sharing their feelings, men are useless."

I shrugged. "No offense taken," I said. "Remember? I'm the guy who liked kissing boys but couldn't figure out that I was gay?" I looked back and forth between the two women. "So you really think he's interested?" I asked.

They nodded in tandem. "Are you interested back?" Sarah asked.

I didn't even have to think about it. "Definitely," I said. "But what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Well, honey," Carol said, "I think we can all agree that your friend Xander isn't going to initiate anything."

"Carol's right," Sarah agreed. "If you want Xander, then you might have to go get him yourself."

Me make the first move? I blanched. I wasn't a make the first move kind of guy. ...Or was I? If I concentrated, I could remember my own hand reaching out across the table to sweep the dishes to the floor. Maybe I was a make the first move kind of guy. At least, when I was under a love spell. Maybe the women were right. Maybe I did need a love spell to help move things along a little...

***

My heart was beating so hard I could hear it like a cave troll tromping around in my ears by the time the plane landed. Sarah and Carol had come up with a half a dozen plans for me to get Xander. None of them sounded like they'd actually work, though, and most of them were more like bad porn plots than sound Getting The Guy plans. But it was sweet of them to try and help.

When the stewardesses said we could get off the plane, Carol let me go in front of her, and Sarah squeezed into the aisle behind me. "So do you know what you're going to do, honey?" Carol asked.

"I'll think of something," I lied.

"Well whatever you decide," Sarah said brightly, "be sure and let us know how it all turns out." We'd exchanged email addresses during the flight.

"I will," I promised.

After clearing customs, the three of us head off to claim our luggage. We rounded the corner into the baggage claim lounge, and a man stepped out of the small crowd waiting there. "Carol?" he called in a light English accent. I would always think of America as my home, but you just had to love that accent.

"Arthur!" Carol called and waved jovially. "My husband, Arthur," she explained to Sarah and I.

"Oh," Sarah exclaimed, and waved to another woman in the crowd. "There's my sister. Wasn't she sweet to come in and meet me?" I nodded unenthusiastically. I wasn't expecting anyone to pick me up. Nope, I had a nice, long, lonely taxi ride to look forward to. 

"Can you get home all right by yourself, honey?" Carol asked me.

"Sure," I said. "I've done it lots of times be-" I stopped mid-word as someone standing in the waiting crowd caught my eye.

"What is it?" Sarah whispered.

"It's... it's..." I took a good look, just to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Tall, dark hair and eyes, a little embarrassed, hands shoved down into his pockets... "It's Xander," I whispered back.

Sarah and Carol exchanged smiles conspiratorially . "Tell us how it goes," Carol commanded with a wink, before heading off with her husband. Sarah waved and I'm pretty sure she was giggling as she left with her sister.

On my own again, I caught Xander's eye and waved. He waved back, and met me at the baggage conveyor belt.

"Good trip?" he asked.

"It was okay." I kept stealing glances his way. I couldn't imagine why he'd come to pick me up. I could just see Sarah and Carol analyzing this to death. They would have said that it meant that Xander had the hots for me, and him picking me up was probably an unconscious metaphor for him picking me up romantically. ...I really hoped they were right.

"Yours is the green one, right?" he asked, keeping his eyes glued to the bags sliding by in front of us.

"Yeah, it is," I confirmed. "Green with the little Yoda iron-on on the side." I looked up and over at Xander. I had to know why he was there. "So..." I fished. "Thanks for comin' to pick me up."

"Hm?" Xander said. "Yeah, sure, no problem." My bag circled around and I fished it off of the conveyor belt. "I mean, it's a long flight, and I figured you wouldn't want to take a cab..."

"Thank you, Xander," I said. "That was very sweet of you." He blushed. I couldn't believe it. It was *so* cute. Maybe Carol and Sarah were right. Maybe Xander did have a thing for me after all. He set out ahead of me towards the exit, and I happened to notice that the blush still coloured his ears a bright red. Suddenly I had a very clear memory of kissing those ears and feeling that same blush hot against my skin, and if Xander hadn't have been walking in front of me, he would have noticed my blush too.

"So how come your plane was delayed?" Xander called back to me.

"Um," I started. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted Xander to know about the whole Harmony kidnapping me fiasco. "Someone was late... and they--I mean, we had to wait."

Xander glanced back at me with a smug smile. His blush had gone the way of Obi-Wan. "Now when you say 'someone' was late for the plane," he said dryly, "you mean you, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. But it wasn't my fault."

We found the car, and Xander tossed my things in the back. "No?" he asked, smiling. "I think I sense an interesting story coming up."

We got into the car and buckled up. I sighed, resigning to tell the story, but to leave out some of the... well, most of the details. "Okay, so everything went well at Wolfram & Hart. But I ran into... this girl I sort of used to know? Harmony?"

Xander scoffed. "You're kidding, right?" He frowned. "Gotta be a different Harmony than the one I knew."

"Blonde? Perky? Vampire?" I prompted. "Fabulous nails?"

"Sounds like one and the same," Xander said. "So she's up to her old tricks, huh? Where did you run into her?" he asked, a slightly worried tone to his voice. "Is this something we should put one of the slayers on?"

"What?" I asked. "No, no, she's working at Wolfram & Hart," I explained. "She's good now."

Xander looked unconvinced. "And what does she have to do with you being late for your flight?"

I fidgeted. "Well, she kinda... kidnapped me."

"Um, didn't you just say she's good now?" Xander asked.

"Yes," I admitted slowly. "And I know what you're going to say."

"Well, it's just I don't usually put 'kidnapper' on my 'things that make people good' list."

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. He could be so difficult sometimes. "She let me go," I retorted.

Xander chuckled. "Well good for her," he said dryly.

I rolled my eyes. "Xander," I whined, "she has it really hard over there because nobody believes that she can ever be good again." I shrugged. "I said I believed in her, and she didn't want to lose the only person around her that cared."

Something in Xander's expression softened. And then his cheeks reddened just a little bit. "So how did you get her to let you go?" he asked, sincere now.

By being gay? "She changed her mind," I said. "She realised that it was the right thing to do."

He looked over at me for a moment and then started the car. "I wasn't going to say anything," he started, "but those are her pants, aren't they?"

I looked down at my pink pajama bottoms and then nodded. "I um... Spilled something on myself when she did the... the kidnapping me thing," I lied in explanation. "So she let me borrow a pair of her pajamas."

He chuckled. "You know, it's not a bad color on you."

"Really?" I asked. "She said that too, you know."

Xander smiled and said, "Well, maybe she's good after all," and I thought, there you go Harmony: one more person who believes in you.

***

When we got back home, the house was quiet and empty. It was usually filled with watchers and slayers and Scoobies in training. It was very rare to be alone with someone here. My heart started at the thought that maybe Xander had a plan to make a move and I wouldn't have to do it. But then the skepticism kicked in and I calmed down a little: maybe it was just a coincidence.

Xander took my bag and tossed it lightly into my room. I smiled. He smiled back. I think we were both suddenly aware of just how quiet the house was without its other occupants. "Are you hungry?" Xander asked abruptly. "You must be hungry." Although I was, he didn't wait for my answer. "I have some pizza warming in the oven," he said, moving towards the kitchen. "I'll put it out if you get us something to drink."

I followed him into the kitchen quietly. He seemed a little... edgy. "Xander, are you okay?" I asked.

"What? Yeah, fine," he said, fishing the warm pizza box out of the oven. "Dandy," he added, taking the box with him out of the kitchen and down the hall into the living room.

Dandy? I thought. Something was definitely not dandy. He was avoiding eye contact and talking even less to me than before the whole love potion thing. I blushed and pushed a sudden, sharp memory of that night out of my head. I turned and looked around to find something to drink. I took two glasses out of the cupboard, placed them on the counter, and peered into the fridge. There was orange juice, (yuck) and a carton of milk (probably expired). I sighed, closed the door, and looked back to the empty glasses. 

Then something on the counter caught my eye: a jug filled about half way up with a translucent, red liquid.

My stomach flopped. Had Xander planned this? Did he want me to put a spell on him again? Xander's voice called in from the living room. "Find anything?" he asked. There was a pause, and I couldn't think of what to say. "I think there's some orange juice in the fridge," he added after a moment.

I swallowed. Xander knew my stance on OJ. I took a step towards the supposed red juice. If Xander wanted this... I hesitated. Maybe he didn't know about the potion sitting on the counter. Maybe he was just being strange for the usual reasons, whatever they were. 

I reached out and grabbed a hold of the juice jug. But then, maybe Carol and Sarah were right, and he just needed something to start the ball rolling. I took a breath and poured two glasses. After all, maybe it was just juice.

I hoped I was doing the right thing. But I had the sneaking suspicion that what I was doing bordered more on dastardly than it did on right.

"Doin' okay in there?" Xander called again.

"Coming," I said, letting out my breath of air and starting into the living room. Harmony, I thought, should have eaten me when she'd had the chance.

The End.


	3. Peace, Love, and Harmony

Title: Peace, Love, and Harmony

Author: Whiskey Meteor

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Xander's POV. Xander and Andrew figure out what they want and why they want it, with a little help from Harmony.

Disclaimer/Notes: Takes place in Ats season 5. Sort of a rewrite of the first episode Andrew had a cameo in. Carries on from the end of No Harm, No Foul, but this time is from Xander's point of view. And thanks to Karen for the beta!

* * *

I took a big bite of pizza and chewed while I waited for Andrew to bring in some juice.

The house was so quiet, and I couldn't help but think about the last time Andrew and I had been alone like that. I looked over into the dining room and wondered what the table there would say if it could talk. I don't know what I'd say about that night if I could talk about it. I mean, obviously I could talk about it, but you know: trying to maintain the manly carpenter in me didn't mesh well with... with... okay, I'll admit it. It didn't mesh well with having really, really, really enjoyed that night with Andrew on the dining room table.

I hadn't been able to so much as look at Andrew without remembering what happened. In graphic detail. And blushing and giggling loses a guy a whole lot of macho-points. So I'd adopted an avoidance technique that was working pretty well, but it's hard to ignore someone when you're alone in a house with them.

I wondered if Andrew had noticed that I was avoiding him. I hoped he hadn't, and if he had... well, I hoped, at least, that he wasn't offended. It's just, he had this whole new life, new career thing going on, and the last thing he needed was Unemployed Man crushing on him.

And I was. Crushing, that is. I couldn't stop thinking about him. At first, I thought that maybe it was just left over from the love potion or something. But you can only kid yourself for so long. I'd clicked with Andrew since Sunnydale. Of course, it had taken a little while, and a love potion, to figure out exactly what that click actually meant, and then to get over the whole crushing on a guy thing. And a bad guy to boot. God, if Anya could have seen me... She would have kicked my butt. She probably had it all figured out five minutes into the first time Andrew and I were in the same room. And she could have told me if Andrew felt the same way as I did. Maybe it had something to do with her age, or maybe it's just a girl thing, but she could always spot the sparks before anyone had even started thinking about the fire.

But she wasn't there, so as usual, I was in the dark.

Andrew padded softly into the living room and stopped by the couch. "Juice?" he said. I reached up and took one of the glasses. And then I looked up. Red juice. I tried to remember if there'd been any red juice in the kitchen when I left for the airport. I didn't think there was. But then, I'd been sort of distracted. Andrew had been in the kitchen for way longer than he needed for pouring two glasses of juice. I looked up at Andrew, and he looked a little scared. Is Andrew trying to put a spell on me, I thought? Was the juice really another magic potion?

My stomach stood up and did a spontaneous summersault. If Andrew was trying to put a love spell on me, that would mean that he wanted something to happen between us, right? I gave a mental shrug: if we both wanted it, who was I to argue? I took an experimental sip of the red liquid. It tasted like real juice. But then, so had the potion.

I was curious, and I had to say something. "Tastes kinda like... love potion," I ventured.

Andrew gave an uncomfortable and slightly confused laugh, but I was relieved that he didn't seem terribly fazed by my mention of the other night. I took another, larger sip of my drink and tried to focus and remember how long it took for a love potion to start working. I looked over at Andrew, who was sipping his drink gingerly, and wondered if it would be kosher to jump him before the spell officially kicked in.

Andrew glanced up and our eyes met. And then he choked on his pizza. I scooted over next to him and patted his back lightly until he stopped coughing. "You okay?" I asked.

He nodded emphatically, and then made a little noise that fell somewhere between a whine and a sigh. Andrew had a noise for every occasion. "I have to tell you something," he said reluctantly. I nodded, and waited. "When Harmony kidnapped me, I kinda figured something out."

About Harmony, I thought? I moved back on the couch and waited for him to finish, thoroughly expecting him to explain how he'd fallen in love with Harmony and was planning on moving back to L.A. so they could be together.

Andrew took a deep breath, and then let it out. "I'm gay," he said.

"Huh?" Not that I wasn't relieved, happy, thrilled even, but... "How did Harmony kidnapping you help you to figure that out?" I asked carefully. Maybe Harmony had a gay roommate and Andrew had fallen in love and was planning to move back to L.A. to be with him.

"Well," Andrew squirmed. "She kinda... and then there was... and it..." He paused and massaged his temples for a second. "We kinda had this attraction thing going," he said, although it sounded more like a question than a statement. "And then there was a kiss." He looked up to gauge my reaction before going on. "And it was horrible. Like George Clooney as Batman horrible."

I was a little stunned. Andrew and Harmony? It made some kind of bizarre sense, and if my opinion wasn't so biased, I probably would have thought they'd have made a cute couple. Andrew looked me in the eye and bit his lip, and for some reason it struck me as being the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Maybe it was the love potion talking, but then again, I had experienced those lips in action. And let me tell you, those lips didn't need any potions to work magic.

"You're not mad, are you?" Andrew asked.

"Why would I be mad?" I countered. Andrew shrugged and turned towards me on the couch. We were close enough that our knees brushed against each other. Oh, and did I mention that I was so excited that I could barely breathe? Lately, being near to Andrew had the ability to reduce me to a sweaty-palmed, anxious mess. More rationalization for my avoidance plan.

"Well," he fidgeted, "there's kinda... more."

"More?" I asked, by this point pretty much breathless. I figured the spell must have started working, because Andrew was barely touching me and I was... well, very excited. I just wanted to... well, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do, but I had more than a few good ideas. They mostly consisted of me and Andrew and a lot less clothing. And maybe a bed. But really, any stable surface would do. Of course, all my plans rested on weather or not Andrew was interested.

"More," Andrew confirmed. "I kinda... want... you."

That clinched it. Potion fully in effect or not, I couldn't wait any longer. In what I must say was a very graceful move for a guy with limited depth perception, I swiveled quickly and pinned Andrew back onto the couch, latching my lips firmly onto his. Oh yeah. I'm smooth.

Andrew gasped as I kissed him, and damn if that didn't feel good. His lips were every inch as soft and--ooh--talented as they had been the last time a spell had its way with us. His tongue tickled against mine, and abruptly we both stalled.

This was a spell. Just like last time. And I honestly thought that wouldn't bother me. But there in the quick of things, whaddo ya know, there it was bothering me. Andrew was sweet, and funny, and understood every word I said no matter how nerdy it was, and I couldn't think of anyone that had felt so damn good touching me. And he'd said that he wanted me with those sweet lips all ready to pout. And I so wanted to believe that it wasn't just the spell talking. I looked down at Andrew, who also looked lost in thought, and I couldn't help but wonder what had him looking so torn.

But Andrew cut my thought off, reaching up and pulling our mouths together again. I shuddered happily and leaned in against him. I couldn't help it. Something about Andrew taking control was... well, drool-worthy. But Andrew didn't seem to mind--he arched back up against me. And he tasted like cranberries--tart and sweet--and it was delicious.

We parted after a moment, short of breath, and let our hands wander while our lips rested. Andrew sighed and rubbed against me, and any thoughts of this not being right because of the spell pretty much flew out the window. I rubbed back, and Andrew's eyes drifted shut. Go ahead and call me Corn Man, but he looked so beautiful, quiet and peaceful like that. It felt so good to have my arms wrapped around a warm, willing body; and it felt so right that the body was Andrew's. I tried not to think about what would happen when the spell wore off, and leaned in for another kiss. Andrew complied, soft lips and nimble tongue greedily playing against my own, and it felt like no time before we were pulling back for breath again.

Andrew's hand ran up my neck and tangled in my hair. "Should we..." he started, glancing toward the hall. "I mean, are people gonna be home soon?"

So modest, I thought with a smile. "Don't worry, we won't get walked in on," I assured him. "A first for our House Of Slayers, I know, but everyone's gone until tomorrow morning."

He smiled back at me shyly. "Could we maybe move anyway?" he asked. "Unless you wanna... you know... here on the couch?"

"Well, we could give the table another run for its money," I suggested dryly. Andrew gave a little frown, and for a moment all my guilt and apprehension came back. If what happened between us the last time had been real, we could have contained ourselves long enough to move to a more comfortable and more romantic setting. Maybe. But now it was happening again, with the same flood of 'oh my god I need to have him right now' feelings and the same big, blue eyes looking up at me with heavy lids trimmed with feathery lashes. And god, I'd wanted him so badly every day for longer than I'd like to admit. So I pushed my guilt and rational thought aside and invited my desire to take control.

"...So are we gonna move, or...? Because I'd really rather not-" I cut Andrew off with a kiss, claiming his half-parted lips roughly. For a moment he was shocked and lay still and rigid against me, but then he warmed and came back to life, eagerly meeting my every move with one of his own. There was a tangle of limbs as we fought to remove our clothes, but Andrew's shirt was buttoned up to his neck, and it snagged resolutely on his chin as I tried to lift it over his head.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. There was smoothly muscled stomach and chest, and then everything above the shoulders was encased in a cotton, button-down trap.

"It's not funny," Andrew proclaimed in a slightly muffled voice. "I'm stuck."

"I'm sorry," I said, as sincerely as I could. "If you could see you, you'd be laughing too."

Andrew struggled, trying ineffectually to reach his fingers to unbutton his shirt. "I really don't think I would," he said, and then let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Xander can you help me out, please?"

I sat back and smiled. "Hm... no." 

There was a pause. Then, "No?"

I chuckled. "No."

Another pause. "You know, I think I'd be a lot more fun if I wasn't stuck like this."

I let my eyes roam across Andrew's torso. "I don't know," I said. "I think you can still be fun like this."

If I could have seen Andrew's face, I'm certain there would have been a pout on it. "So you'd rather sit there and laugh at me than... you know... do... other things with me?" I leaned forward and lay my palms against his chest, then gently pushed him back until he was lying flat on the couch. "Xander?"

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm done laughing." I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, and I could feel his heart rate rise under my palms. "And I can think of lots of other things to do to you."

That got a little giggle. And then pleasantly annoyed, "Xander just help me get out of my shirt."

"I already did, dummy," I said, a goofy-lecherous grin on my face. And then I lifted my hands an inch and tickled. My fingertips danced over Andrew's chest, playfully teasing nipples and sensitive, tensed flesh. Andrew made a sound somewhere between a giggle and sigh of relief. He struggled gently, still, to get out of his shirt, but with less effort than before. I stilled my fingers and let my thumbs trace slowly across his skin.

His struggle turned to a lazy squirm and he let out a long breath that carried my name out with it. The hair at the base of my neck prickled and I felt myself flush in anticipation. He finally gave up struggling and relaxed into my touch, and my heart flipped at the thought that he was mine. I could do whatever I wanted to him—with him.

But only right now, I reminded myself. Only for as long as the potion was working. Reluctantly, I pulled back, removing my hands from Andrew's skin. I felt awful. I wanted Andrew for the long haul, not just for a limited period of time. I couldn't do it. I'd have to let him go, fight the spell and save myself the heartache. But I wanted him so badly, I wasn't sure if I could just get up and walk away. After a moment Andrew interrupted my thoughts and said, "Xander?"

I shook my head. "Here," I said, leaning forward and inspecting Andrew's shirt to see if I could remove it, "let me get you out of there."

To my surprise, Andrew pulled back, dodging my hands. "Xander, it's okay," he said. "I trust you."

"We... shouldn't do this."

There was a long pause. Then, his voiced colored with determination and pleading, Andrew said, "Xander." And he arched up against me, pushing our bodies together and assuring me that he had been as aroused as I had. "We need to do this." My resolve was crumbling; why did it have to feel so amazing when our bodies touched?

I set my jaw and turned my head to the side, clearing my view of the one person who seemed able to make me forget my convictions in a heartbeat. And with my head turned to the table, my gaze fell upon our two glasses. Mine was emptied completely. Andrew's couldn't have been missing more than two good sips. I looked back at Andrew and licked my lips thoughtfully. He had said that he'd figured out he wanted this while he was on his trip. And he'd barely had any of the potion. Maybe, I thought, just maybe he really wants this. Maybe I'd be able to have him tonight, and then keep him forever.

And I decided that I could live with a maybe.

My hands drifted back up to Andrew's shirt, and I carefully unbuttoned and helped him remove it. When he was free, Andrew looked up at me with uncertain eyes—worried, I think, that I'd decided to call the whole thing off. I couldn't remember either of us hesitating or being uncertain in the least the last time. But then, I thought, neither of us had known what was really going on. I leaned in very slowly and pressed my lips against Andrew's--a long, sweet kiss that felt as real as it gets. And when I finally pulled away, I smiled. "Come on," I said, getting up off the couch and offering my hand to Andrew, "let's do this right."

We did it right--coupled in the warm darkness, hidden under soft sheets. We sighed together at every wonderful moment of passion until, at last, the world fell away leaving us pleasantly exhausted and content to lay beside each other in silence. I closed my eyes and lay there, half-dreaming, until I felt the sun warm on my face as it filtered in through the blinds.

I sat up and glanced over at Andrew beside me. He lay, curled up on his side, fast asleep. His hair was matted with dried sweat and too much handling, but even in his sleep his lips were curled into a faint smile proclaiming that his tousled appearance had been well and happily earned.

Carefully, I crawled out of bed and crossed the room to my computer. I wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen when Andrew woke up, and the thought of never being with him again after that was gnawing at my mind and keeping me awake. I had to do something to pass the time, and I'd stared at Andrew long enough to know that his right ear was a little higher than his left, he had a little mole on his neck by his hairline that kinda looked like an eyeball if you squinted at it right, and... well, you get the picture. I figured I'd crossed the line between gazing adoringly and staring creepily. So I thought I'd check my email.

There was one new message, and for a moment I was excited at the possibility that it was from Andrew. But then I looked back to where he was still sleeping soundly in my bed, exhausted after a healthy helping of man-lovin', and somehow an email just didn't seem as exciting anymore. I opened my inbox and looked at the new message. It was from "Wolfram & Heart?" I wondered to myself. Who had my email address there, and why would they want it in the first place? Overcome by curiosity, I opened the message. It read:

Hi, Xander?

This is Harmony. Okay, I'm not sure if you remember me at all, because we weren't really friends or anything, but we went to high school together. And then I tried to kill you that one time? Remember when I had that totally incompetent gang?

So, anyway, I'm trying out this whole not being evil thing, and it's going really well. I even got a great job at Wolfram & Heart. You know, where Angel works? I'm his assistant now, and I do a pretty kick-ass job. In my opinion anyway. Okay, so here's the thing: you're probably wondering how I got your address and why I'm emailing you, right? Well before you send Buffy off to stake me or something, listen, okay? Because I can totally explain.

Okay, so getting your address was way easy, because when you work for a big, evil law firm, that kind of personal information is really easy to get at a moment's notice. And I'm really sorry to snoop, but I had to write to you, because I have something really important to tell you. I would have just called, because I found your phone number too, but I figured you'd probably just hang up on me, or send someone to kill me, so I thought this way was safer, you know?

So here goes. Andrew's gay. And he's totally into you. See, if I'd called, you would have hung up on me then, right? But I'm not lying. I know I've got this whole bad girl history, what with the being evil, and the trying to kill you, but I'm totally serious about this, okay? And I think that you might be totally into him too, because I saw the lunch you packed for him, and then the whole painted lunch bag thing (which was so cute, btw) and I figure there's got to be something more going on there than you being nice. And I don't know if you're, you know, out, but I remember there was this rumor going around in high school that you were gay, and even though I know you've had at least one girlfriend and I didn't know you that well anyway, I always kinda got this sort of vibe that you weren't totally straight. Plus, Andrew's a total undercover hottie. Just wait 'till you see him naked;)

But I guess what I'm saying is: don't freak out, okay? Eventually, Andrew's gonna figure out what's really going on with him, and he's a really great guy, and if you don't know that already then you're a complete bonehead. So just think about it, okay? I know it might be a little weird, and you're probably freaked out about the whole coming out thing, but you've got really good friends. Like, Buffy? I'm sure if anybody ever gave you trouble about, you know, dating a guy, she'd totally kick their asses.

Okay, I think I'm done. But, just give him a chance, okay? Because you guys would be so great together. Oh, and sorry for trying to kill you that one time. It was just one time, right? Do the times that I was dating Spike and he tried to kill you count too? Well, sorry for trying to kill you, you know, however many times I tried.

Harmony

P.S. Say hi to Andrew for me, and tell him I put his pants in the mail, and he should get them in a couple of days.

I scratched my head. The idea of Harmony trying to do something nice for me--and succeeding--was a little disorienting. I skimmed the message again and a smile spread across my face. So Andrew really had meant it when he said he wanted me. My heart fluttered and I felt like dancing. Andrew wanted me! And not just for one night!

I looked back to my bed, where he was still sleeping soundly. I was contemplating several interesting and x-rated ways to wake him up, when something distracted me. It was the soft click of key being inserted into lock: someone else was home. Andrew stirred, but didn't wake, and suddenly my stomach twisted. What was I going to tell my friends? What would they say? And then the storyline took off in my head. They'd freak. They'd never understand. And then they'd think that I was crazy. No, wait. Not crazy. They'd think that I was under some kind of spell, and then they'd point their shaking fingers at Andrew. And I wasn't sure if I was strong enough, or willing enough to try and convince them otherwise. I shook my head and moved toward the door. If I wanted to break this to them successfully, I'd have to break it gently. Giles and Dawn walking in on a sleeping, naked Andrew in my bed was definitely not the way to go. I grabbed my robe and put it on, and then quietly stepped out into the hall. I took extra care to make sure the door was quietly, but securely, closed behind me.

I walked casually into the living room, where I could hear Dawn arguing gently with Giles. As I joined them, Dawn was saying: "...because they were having a sale!"

"Dawn," Giles said, "the need to shop is not an acceptable excuse for missing classes."

Dawn wilted, pouted, and slumped down onto the couch. "I'm sorry," she offered reluctantly, but somehow still sincerely.

Giles gave his concerned but loving father figure look. "You're a very bright girl, Dawn, and you need to go to school." Dawn looked up and noticed me, and jumped at her chance for an interruption.

"Xander!" she said brightly. "Did you get Andrew back from the airport okay? How was his trip? Did he see Angel? Did he bring me anything?"

"Yes, fine, yes, and not that I know of."

Dawn pouted. "He didn't buy me anything?"

Giles rolled his eyes and, after casting a slightly irritated glance at the empty pizza box that Andrew and I had left on the coffee table, excused himself. My eyes fell on the table as his did, and an idea hit me: I'd had the sense, at some point during the night, to get up and clear away our glasses--and to pour the rest of the love potion down the drain. So, I thought to myself, if no one knew we'd taken the potion, there wouldn't be any finger pointing and blame laying on Andrew. I turned and fixed an inquisitive look on Dawn.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I know he didn't have to bring me something, but it would have been nice of him... and that's not why your glaring at me, is it?"

I shook my head as a thought began to grow in my head. Maybe Andrew wasn't responsible for the potion after all. "I'm not glaring. I'm just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Did you make another love potion?"

"Huh?"

"We found another jug of red juice on the counter, just like last time." To my surprise, Dawn looked a little suspicious. "But we didn't drink it," I went on. "We just poured it down the sink. And I thought we made ourselves very clear about how wrong it is to make love potions and leave them sitting around where anyone could-"

"Whoa," Dawn cut in. "You did make yourselves very clear, and that's why I gave up on the whole love potion thing." She shook her head. "So not worth the lectures."

I frowned. So did that mean that it was Andrew's fault? Had it been his plan all along to seduce me with the magic? I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that. Maybe a little flattered... but also a little used. I mean, he just assumed that--

"Xander?"

I looked back at Dawn, who was watching me curiously. "Um," I said.

"Are you okay?"

And thankfully, I was spared having to come up with an explanation, because at that moment Giles walked back into the living room. "Alright, I demand to know who drank my cranberry juice." His hands were perched on his hips. "Xander?" he asked condescendingly. "Do you know what happened to my juice?"

Dawn smiled wickedly. "He poured it down the sink."

"Down the sink?" Giles looked at me in disbelief. "Xander, why in the world would you pour my juice down the sink?"

I was dumbstruck. I stood staring at Giles with my lower jaw drooping. There hadn't been any potion? So I didn't take advantage of Andrew. And he didn't take advantage of me. We were just two mutually smitten guys looking for a little peace, love, and harmony. I laughed out loud, and then remembered that Giles and Dawn were there with me, and that Giles had just asked me a question. "Huh?" I asked him.

Dawn shook her head and crawled up off the couch. "He thought I was messin' around with the potions again." She raised her eyebrows at Giles expectantly. "I think an apology to me would be an excellent punishment."

Giles frowned, and then gave a mildly irritated smile. "Dawn," he said slowly, "I'm sure that--"

"Xander? Look, I'm sorry about what happened, and what I said, and if you wanna make like it was a temporary technical malfunction and just pretend it never happened I'll totally-" I nearly jumped out of my skin, and all three heads in the room turned to where Andrew had wandered, sleepy eyed and clad a sheet tied toga-style, into the living room. His entrance and his rambling stopped abruptly as he looked up and saw we weren't alone.

Dawn stared blankly for a moment; then gave a little gasp; and then another, more excited little gasp.

I'm not entirely sure, but I think I saw Giles roll his eyes.

While fending off a handful of blurted questions from Dawn, and a few uncomfortable ones from Giles, I shooed Andrew back into my room and shut the door behind us. I sat down on the foot of the bed, and Andrew took the chair by the computer. From our separate posts, we sat and stared across at each other for a moment. We were only a couple of feet away, but somehow the distance seemed much greater than that.

"I'll take the blame," Andrew said abruptly. "Because it's entirely my fault anyway. The juice was a love potion--I guess... Dawn made it?" I opened my mouth to interrupt, but Andrew wouldn't let me get a word in edge-wise. "I thought maybe you wanted me to give it to us... But I knew... I mean, I know that you really don't want this. You know, if it's more than just... that." He paused for a breath, but I remained silent, feeling obliged to let him finish. "I'm sorry, and I'll totally understand if you wanna never talk to me again. I could probably move out, too, and get my own place? You know, if you didn't want to see me either."

"The juice was just juice." Andrew looked at me blankly. "The potion?" He frowned. "I mean, I thought it was potion too, but it was just juice."

"So it wasn't a--wait." He looked at me carefully. "You thought it was a potion, but you drank it anyway?"

I felt my face flush red, and looked down at my knees. "Well, yeah," I said. "I mean, I thought you wanted it. And..." I took a deep breath. "And I wanted it too, because it's all I've been able to think about since... since the first time."

I looked back up at Andrew, who offered me a small smile. "It was pretty great."

"Andrew," I said, "it was amazing." I reached out and tugged gently on Andrew's arm. The chair at my computer was on wheels, and he slid easily across the floor until the chair-back was flush with the foot of the bed. "But it was nothing compared to last night." Andrew looked at me questioningly, waiting for me to go on. "Because last night was real. No magic. No tricks. Just two dumb, scaredy-cat guys who finally went for what they wanted."

Andrew smiled, looked away shyly, and then seemed to regain some measure of confidence. He looked back up at me and gave a real smile--a big, goofy smile that tried to be sexy but didn't quite make it past cute. "I don't know," he said, "it felt pretty magical to me."

I laughed despite the corn, and wrapped my arms around Andrew. We fell back into silence, but this time it wasn't awkward at all. I kissed his neck, pressing my lips lazily against the soft skin there, and all the way down to his shoulder. He tasted faintly salty and felt so comfortable in my arms that I would have been content to never let him go. And then our mouths met and everything else melted away. The kisses were sweet, and made sweeter still by knowing that there would be many more to come. There would be no more pretending. No more wondering what if. No more empty wanting and waiting.

I pulled Andrew closer, thinking in the back of my mind that it would be very nice if we were both on the bed again, and he seemed to wordlessly agree. But as he leaned into my arms, his balance on the chair shifted, and although he ended up on top of me on the bed, the chair took a noisy trip sideways onto the floor.

My bedroom door burst open, and Dawn, with eyes bulging eagerly, stuck her head in. "Are you okay? Should we leave you alone?" she blurted. "Because we could leave you alone if you..." She tilted her head to the side, absorbing the scene.

Andrew righted the chair, and then sat back down beside me, making sure that his sheet-toga was covering all his important bits. "Hi Dawnie," he offered nonchalantly. "Did you have fun while I was gone?"

"Well, define fun," Dawn suggested. "Because I did have fun. But not--" she gestured at the two of us, "--you know, that kind of fun." At that point, Giles, who had been standing just behind Dawn, pulled her gently out of the way.

"Do you... want me to explain?" I asked. "Or did Little Miss Eavesdropper already fill you in?"

Giles looked at me, and then at Andrew, and then took his glasses off and focused on them. "Thank you," he said, "but I think I've managed to put things together myself. And I think I'd rather like to be spared the details. You're together. If you want them, you have my blessings. Now shall we talk about something else entirely less... well, just something else entirely?" He finished inspecting his glasses and put them back on, then addressed Andrew. "How was your trip, Andrew? Did you have any problems? We were a little worried that you didn't get in touch with us before you came home."

"Well, I would have," Andrew said, "but then there was this whole kidnapping thing, and I sort of lost track of time."

Giles stared at him blankly for a moment. "...Kidnapping thing?"

"Yeah." Andrew nodded and folded his hands neatly on his knees. "Well, it turns out this vampire chick I kinda used to be friends with is working for Angel now. And we sorta hit it off—which obviously didn't pan out. And then there was the kidnapping. And then she was going to eat me. And then it got kinda weird. And then she let me go."

Dawn frowned. "It didn't get weird until mid-kidnapping?"

"Well-"

"And why were you sorta friends with a vampire chick?" Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at Andrew impatiently.

Andrew sighed. "Well, it was more of a business friendship," he offered enigmatically.

"It was Harmony," I chipped in. "And don't worry; she seems to have shifted further over onto the harmless side of evil."

"She's trying really hard to be good now," Andrew said, nodding to himself. "She even lent me her pajama pants when I—uh, when I spilled... something... on my suit pants."

"Oh!" I said, suddenly remembering. "They're in the mail. Your pants, I mean." Andrew looked at me, confused. "Harmony emailed me," I explained.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to know," Giles said, "but exactly why are you corresponding with Harmony?"

"It's not what you think," I said.

Giles wrinkled his nose confusedly. "I'm not entirely sure what I think."

"She was... well, it was just this one time. And she was trying to help," I explained. "Actually, she sorta did help." I smiled to myself. I was gaining a new respect for Andrew. It was because of him that Harmony, someone I'd never thought of as a candidate for redemption, let alone wanting to be a candidate, was actually working to redeem herself. I looked over at Andrew and felt suddenly very lucky to be wanted by such a good, strong man.

Catching my adoring gaze, Dawn cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "I guess we'll leave you two alone." She smiled. "It's good to have you back, Andrew. Even if it is minus your snazzy suit pants."

Andrew nodded. "It's good to be home." He looked back at me and smiled. And then, despite our company, he leaned in and kissed me. Once we'd started there was no turning back, and what began as a sweet kiss quickly degenerated into a noisy, wet one. We melted into each other's touch, tuning everything else out, and in a matter of moments we were lost to the world.

Giles smiled reluctantly and shook his head. "Harmony should have eaten that boy when she had the chance." Dawn giggled and cooed as Giles ushered her away and closed the door.

And then... Well, then we made some more magic.

The end.


End file.
